


Static

by Octogator



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Biting, F/M, Goop donger, I'm Bad At Tagging, One Shot, Reader is a girl, Reader thinks they are crazy, Reader-Insert, Sassy Void goop, Scratching, Voice Kink, sad void goop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:19:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6321994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octogator/pseuds/Octogator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You wake up one night to a searing pain in your skull and a voice only you can hear. Your half way through collage, your a bit old for an imaginary friend and you are content to try and ignore this problem. At least the voice seems about as happy with this situation as you are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Static

**Author's Note:**

> I have been sitting and futzing with this monster for a while. I've decided I'm done and you can have it now. 
> 
> The amazing [Maybeapples](http://archiveofourown.org/users/maybeapples/pseuds/maybeapples) Edited this!  
> I draw NSFW crap and put it on my tumblr~ [Octogator was taken so It's Allipuss.](http://allipuss.tumblr.com/)  
>   
> EDIT: I've posted the translations for what gaster says in the comments.

It started as a low hum.

Not loud, barely there, but enough to wake you up. At first you thought it was your computer, then, your phone. Finally, after you searched the apartment, you stood under your flat’s loan fire alarm, trying to decide if this… sound was coming from it.

It was louder now, broken and distorted, sounding like it was made out of static and pain. It was actually starting to hurt. Not really your ears, but your head HURT.

You rub your forehead, press against your eyes before deciding to give your kitchen appliances a once over again in case it was your microwave or toaster making this sound.

At three in the morning, the night before… well, day of, your first college finals, of course you were woken to a mystery sound. 

The way the sound shifted and pulsed… it sounded like sobs, like someone crying, but it was hard to tell, it was so distorted. It wasn’t coming from your flat, it wasn’t coming from outside. You were fairly sure that it wasn’t coming from another apartment.

No matter where you stood, or how forcefully you covered your ears, the sound was just as loud.

And it HURT.

“Please… just stop!” You growled in frustration, throwing yourself down on your mattress and curling in on yourself. You had finals in the morning, you had work, you had to pick your major. Maybe that was it, all the stress has gotten to you and you snapped. 

You buried your face into a pillow and screamed. The voice got louder as well, and you wondered if your head would split open.

“Please! It hurts!” The voice faded. It was still there, but the pulsing, sobbing sound was barely heard over the static. You caught your breath, you had been nearly sobbing yourself. A hot line dripped down your face, and you wiped it away, thinking it a tear.

“Blood?” You looked at your hand for a long moment. The - sound? voice? grew louder. It wasn’t just static sobs now.

~~**[XX XXX… XXX X XX XXXX XX XXX, XXXXX?!]** ~~

It was faint, but they were clearly words… hard to hear over the static, and they sounded strained with a slight echo. You had no idea what they said, but they held concern.

~~**[XXX XXX XXXX XX? X XXXX XX XXX XXX!]** ~~

Louder, more authority, but still concerned. You couldn’t dwell on this new development. You needed to see what was happening, why were you bleeding? Standing, you headed to the bathroom, intent on the mirror.

You ignored the voice’s approving hum.

It turned into a shocked surge of static when you looked in the mirror.

“Ditto…” You couldn’t help yourself… If you could make a shocked staticky sound at will, that was exactly how you were feeling as you looked at your reflection.

Your left eye was bleeding. You blinked a few times. For just a second, you were sure that your eye had been completely black, and that there was a flicker of blue. Your rubbed your eye and the static made a disapproving sound before you looked in the mirror again. 

Back to normal, back to you. You must have just popped a blood vessel in your eye or something. You took a few breaths and wiped away the blood. For a  second you thought you saw a flicker of something… not you, in the mirror, but when you spun to check behind you, you were alone.

“I’ve snapped… plain and simple.” You laughed almost hysterically, opening up your medicine cabinet.

~~**[XXXXX XXX XXX XXX XXXXX… XXXXXX X XXXX X XXX XXXX XXX XX.]** ~~

You ignored the voice, it sounded almost mournful, apologetic. Your head still hurt, but it was more like a dull pressure, not quite there, not quite gone. “Maybe I just… It's probably just stress.” You pulled out a bottle of pain meds and a sleeping pill. You didn’t have a morning class, and you REALLY needed to be rested for finals.

~~**[XXXX XXX XXXXX? XXXXX?]** ~~

“Oh my god, could you not!” You yelled back, rubbing your forehead, and looked at the bottles. How many could you take and not die?

Eh, three pain pills sounded good. Just one of the sleeping pills though, those hit hard. The voice did not seem to agree with your assumptions.

~~**[XXX XXXXXX XXXX XXX XX XXXX XXXX XXXXX XXXXXXXXXX. X XXXX XXXX XX XXX XXXX, XXXXXX X XX XXX XXXX XXXX XXXXX XXX XX XXXXXX. X XXXX XX XXX XXXX XX, XXXXX.]** ~~

“This is the opposite of not doing that! At least stop yelling!” For lack of a proper target, you glared at the mirror. Your left eye was still pink from the busted vein; you were going to look lovely in the morning.

Fuck it, it was finals, they would be lucky if you changed out of your pajamas. 

~~**[X’X XXXXX.]** ~~

That was better; it almost felt like an apology. You cupped your hands under the sink and took all four pills in one go, chasing it with a mouthful of water.

~~**[XXX XXXXXXX XXXXXXX XXXXXX XX XXXXXXXXX XXX XXXX XXXXXX. XXXXX XXX XXX XXX.]** ~~

You nearly spit your water. Never have you heard condescending snark expressed so clearly through static and echoed nonsense words.  

“Welp, goodnight… voice in my head. When I wake up I plan on not being crazy,” you responded, heading back to bed. You had classes, a job. Hell, you had to pick your major soon, you didn’t have time to be hearing voices.

You didn’t have time to be going crazy.

~~**[XXXXXXXXX XXXXX… X XXXX XXXX X XXX XXXXX XX XXXX XXXX XXX XXXX.]** ~~

Nope… did not have the time. At least the voice didn’t hurt anymore. When it wasn’t upset it was kind of nice. People always said when you heard voices it was supposed to sound like demons or something.

Not some whimsical language mixed with static lulling you to sleep.

**.x.** ~~**X[XXXXXXXX]X** ~~ **.x.**

Well… You probably didn’t fail out of your first term of collage.

~~**[XXX XXXX XXX XXX XXXXX XX XXXX XXXXX?]** ~~

You hummed, crossed out one of the majors on your list before trying to mimic the nonsense words that apparently only you can hear, though in a somewhat more condescending tone.

**[XXXX’X XXXXXXXX, XXX XXX’XX XXXXXXX XXXXXX.]**

“Ok, so I’m clearly going to stay crazy, we might as well work this out.” You huffed, flipping your notebook to a new page. It's been almost a week. A week of some voice in your head commenting on various parts of your life.

It didn’t like if you didn’t eat breakfast. It didn’t like when you stayed up too late.

You weren't even going to try and describe the sounds it had made when you thought you would take a little one on one time with yourself and loaded up a few risque videos. Needless to say, after the first few minutes of insulted screeching, it was kind of hard to get off with a voice in your head commenting on your porn choices like you were in a nature documentary. Didn’t stop you from powering though just to show who was in charge.

Maybe you were crazy.

Next time you decided you would give them a heads up.

“Ok, voice dude… lady… thing.” You paused, sucking your lip before you started to write.

~~**[X XX XXXX.]** ~~

“No, not yet, let me… ok. Make the sound for yes.” You finished writing; you had drawn out the alphabet as well as several words. You ripped this paper out and set it aside while you waited.

~~**[XXX]** ~~

You repeated it as best you could, waiting for the voice to speak.

~~**[YES.]** ~~

This time you repeated it and sounded right. You played with the word in your mouth, trying it out and getting used to the sound. The voice repeated it a few more times until you were sure you had it.

“Ok, now the word for no.”

~~**[XX.]** ~~

Same process - it took you less time and the voice at least seemed happy, it had taken on an approving scholarly tone as you learned the words.

You learned  **yes, no, maybe, stop** and  **go** before you were ready to move on. You didn’t want to learn the entirety of a made up crazy language, but you figured maybe if you tried to talk with your crazy you could figure out what it wanted.

You pulled the paper back and held your pen over the first line. “Can you see this?”

~~**[YES.]** ~~

“Ok… You understand me?”

~~**[YES.]** ~~

“Can you understand my writing, like can you read this?” You gestured over the paper with your questions over it.

~~**[XXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XX XXXXX XXXX XXXX. XXX. YES.]** ~~

The voice grumbled before giving you its affirmative. You nodded before starting your questions.

“Do you have a gender?”

~~**[YES.]** ~~

“What are you - wait… it's got to be yes or no… Are you a boy?” The voice sounded masculine at times. More so when it took on its deeper, more pleased tones, so it was your best guess.

~~**[YES.]** ~~

“Ok, so my imaginary crazy voice is a dude, good to know,” you chirped, moving on to your next question.

“Do you have a name?”

~~**[YES. XXXXXXXX XXXXXX]** ~~

You repeat it a few times, struggling but never meeting the approval of the voice. Finally you pull the paper closer, honestly with the letters, numbers and words you wrote down it looks like a half assed wigi board. 

“Ok so…I’m just going to embrace my crazy...” You make another attempt at butchering his name. “Do you understand this alphabet? Can you spell your name phonetically with it?” You wait the voice does say anything but it lets out a thoughtful hum. You consider rephrasing your question but before you open your mouth he speaks.

~~**[YES. XXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XX XXXXX XXX YES X XXX. XX’X XXXX XXXX XXXX XXXXX X XXXX XXXX XXX XXXXXXX XXXXXXXX.]** ~~

You did enjoy his voice, especially when he got thoughtful like this, and you felt like he was half-rambling to himself. You shook your head and rubbed your eyes. What were you thinking, this voice was just some crazy part of you that you were trying to understand so you could pretend to be… not crazy.

This part of you had a name, though, and you felt it would just be polite to actually be able to say it.

It took a while, a lot of yes’s, no’s, stop’s and go’s. Also a lot of frustrated nonsense words that you felt might have been insulting comments on your ability to point at letters. But in the end, you had a name written on a scrap of paper.

“Wing Dings Gaster?” You question testing the name out on your tongue.

~~**[YES!]** ~~

It was said in an exasperated sigh and you had a feeling he was about as tired of this game as you were. But at least you knew his name.

“Welp, that's an odd name for an imaginary friend. But at twenty I’m a bit old for an imaginary friend to begin with, so I’m probably just extra crazy…”

~~**[XXX XXX XXX XXXXX, XXXXXX X XX XXX XXXXX X XXXX XXX XXXXXXXX XX XXXXXXX XXX XXXXX XXXXXX XXXX XX XXX. X XX XXX XXXXX XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXX. X XX XXXXX XXX- XXX XXX XXX XXX XXXXX X XXXXX XX XXXXXX XXX XXX… X XX XXXXX XXXXXXXXXX]** ~~

You turned back to the page with your list of majors, crossing out a few more and just enjoying Gaster’s voice in your mind. It was such a nice voice, even if you only understood a few words. He’d sunken into melancholy rambling now, and you thought perhaps it was best to pull him out of it. It made sense, if a part of you got sad, then the rest of you got sad. That made sense, right?

Better cross out psycology. You were going to have enough fun poking in your own brain, you don’t need to poke at others.

“So Wingdings,”

~~**[GASTER, XXXXXX.]** ~~

“Gaster… Got an opinion on what we should major in?”

~~**[XXXX XXX XXXXX XXX XXX XX XXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXX X XXXXXXX XXX XXXXX XX, XX XXXXXXX XX XXXXX. X XXXX XXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXX, XXXXXXX XXX XXXXXXX XXX XXXXX XX XXX XXXXXXX XXX XX XXXXXXXX XX XXXXX XXXXX XXXXX XXXX XXXXXXX XXX XX.]** ~~

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

~~**[XX XX X YES.]** ~~

 

**.x.** **X[XXXXXXXX]X** **.x.**

 

That was - maybe two years ago? Gaster was still with you, very much so. Now that you two had somewhat of an understanding, he was even more vocal than before. Maybe being insane and having a voice in your head to remind you to eat and sleep at appropriate intervals wasn’t such a bad thing.

Not that he had much room to complain. It HAD been his idea that you double major in Biology and Electrical Engineering. It was a compromise - you liked robots, and he was interested in how organic things worked.

You two were arguing about whether or not to build an evil army of animal cyborgs to defend your future island fortress. You know, in case you ever decided to fully embrace your insanity and go full on super villain. Gaster didn't think you were very funny, and would often get flustered the more passionate you got about it. 

You liked when he got flustered. It was cute - his voice would get just a hair more static and would pitch in this slightly offended way. Was it weird to crush on your imaginary friend/crazy voice inside your head?

Probably.

He said your name. You loved it when he said your name in that odd dialect of his. It reminded you of proper english, but slightly different enough that it always had you digging for where it came from. You closed your eyes and took a breath; your eyes stung, it was late, but you really needed to finish going over these notes.

There was your name again.

~~**[YOU NEED SLEEP. NO XXXXXXX XX STUDY XX XXXXX XXXX HEALTH. YOU XXX XX READY FOR XXXXXXXX’X TEST XX YOU XXX XXXX XX.]** ~~

“Come on Gaster, just like, a half hour more?” You look at the clock and let out a sigh, before his disapproving grumble could turn into a full out scolding you speak again.

“Ok fine you win.” You put away your notes and look at your bed. Its messy from the last time you slept in it, Gaster had whined when you didn’t make it this morning… Well… yesterday morning. 

~~**[XXXX GOOD.]** ~~

You grab a sleep shirt and head to your bathroom, striping along the way. Two years of a voice in your head, watching from your eyes… you didn’t have a lot of privacy. Not that you were very modest to begin with.

~~**[THIS XX XXX SLEEPING.]** ~~

“Shower, then sleep.” You free your modest bust from its cage and slip out of your panties. Gaster lets out flustered sigh but remains silent as you step into the shower and let out a gasp as the cold water hit you. Finally, when it starts to warm up you step under it fully.

You and Gaster have an understanding.

It’s awkward sometimes. Like the one time you almost ALMOST brought home some college guy. That was back when you knew next to nothing about Gaster, and knew maybe a handful of words. He was very vocal about his feelings against the boy sucking your face, and at the end of his garbled static tirade, you were no longer in the mood to deal with other people. At the time, you were really upset, but it turns out Gaster’s temper tantrum ruining the mood helped you dodge a bullet. The guy turned out to be a real creep.

You know Gaster was a doctor, on so many levels. He is so very smart, smarter than you could ever hope to be. He calls himself a monster as a race, and was very upset to learn that his people had been reduced to legends. A part of him can see through you, while the rest of him is either trapped in the void or some place called the underground. Why is he broken up like this? He doesn’t like to talk about it. As much as you tried to fight it, it's easier for you to think of Gaster as his own person, believe what he says. So yeah, you’ve pretty much embraced your insanity at this point. At least he is mostly benign. 

Sassy, opinionated and benign.

You slide your hands down your sides, enjoying the hot water. You are dangerously close to falling asleep under the hot spray. You pick up your soap and start to scrub almost lazily. Gaster is mostly quiet during times like this, bath time and, well… between the sheets time was you time. Sometimes you would hear a huff or a little surge of static, but he left you be. You’re a healthy young woman. It’s just easier and less embarrassing to ride your hand then bring some guy home to have Gaster comment on him like he’s studying the wildlife.

It's bad enough when he does it in public. You’ve gotten pretty good at holding a poker face whenever the judgmental man inside you head makes some snide comment about human interactions or monologues about behaviours. The worst is when he outright disagrees with your professors. You don’t blame him for those - teaching wrong information helped nobody. 

Though it’s fairly difficult to focus on a lecture with an outraged disembodied voice in your head disproving your professor’s equations. 

One hand moves to your chest, as the other traces along your hip bone. You crack an eye open as you watch one of your fingers slowly circle your nipple, getting closer and closer, fuck, you love to tease yourself.

You hear a staticky breath and fuck, does it make you feel dirty knowing that he is watching you. Really, he almost HAS to watch you. His other options are the void and some glimpse of a world where nobody remembers him. You feel bad, but you never voice it - you doubt he would appreciate your pity.

You bite your lip as you pinch, pulling your nipple hard as you let your other hand graze over your mound. A slightly pained and needy whimper escapes your lips as you released the abused nub of flesh, moving to repeat the process to the neglected bud. Your finger slides over your clit and you let out a gasp.

Gaster sucks in a breath as you roll your nipple between thumb and finger just below your pain threshold. 

He says your name just as you slip a finger inside you, and you can’t hold back a breathy moan.

~~**[XXXX XXXX HURT?]** ~~

“G-good h-hurt,” you respond without really thinking about it. His voice is deeper; it almost has a gravely quality to it, and fuck if that doesn’t do it for you. You continue to abuse your breasts as you slip another finger inside you, angling your thumb to brush your clit. You can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut.

~~**[NO. XXXX XXXX OPEN. I XXXX XX WATCH YOU.]** ~~

“Shit, Gaster.” You open your eyes and groan, pumping your fingers deeper, and fall back until you hit the shower wall, letting his voice wash over you.

~~**[XXXX X XXXXX GIRL… XXXX MY VOICE XXXXXX XXX SO MUCH?]** ~~

His voice is a deep purr; you can almost pretend he is whispering these things in your ear as he watches you instead of inside your head. “Fuck… Your voice, don’t stop please.” Your fingers speed up inside of you and your free hand scratches down your neck. It takes all of your willpower to keep your eyes open and watch yourself come undone.

Letting him watch through you.

Fuck, you were crazy.

You nearly come when he purrs your name.

~~**[LOOK XX YOURSELF. X’XX NEVER XXXX YOU GET XX XXXX XXXXX XX QUICKLY. COMING XXXXXX XX XXXX MY VOICE. XXXXX ABOVE, I XXXX I XXXXX TOUCH YOU. XXXXX YOU. XX’X XXXXXX XXXXXXX WATCHING YOU.]** ~~

“Gas-Gaster!” Your legs are shaking by the time he finishes his monologue. God, you can almost call his voice a growl at this point - you feel like you understand even less than your normally do, but you know dirty talk when you hear it, even in another language. 

~~**[XXX GO. COME XXX ME.]** ~~

There was your name again, his voice taking on authority, and you are more than happy to comply. You call out his name and a breathy static moan answers you and your orgasm rips through you.

You slide down the wall until you’re sitting on the floor of the shower, catching your breath. You don’t know how long you sit in silence. Gaster is quiet, too. Once the water finally starts to chill, you get up and finish rinsing off. 

Drying off, you pause in front of the mirror. Your eye flicks black and a familiar shadow is behind you. You don’t bother turning - you know he isn’t there. Instead, you touch the mirror and let out a sigh.

He says your name, his voice laced with worry.

You don’t respond, but you can’t fight back the hot tears running down your face. 

Worried again, more panicked static followed by garbled static. The shadow behind you shifts and you close your eyes. You don’t want him to see you cry.

~~**[XXX I GO XXX FAR? I XXXXXXX… YOU XXXXX XX. PLEASE XX XXX CRY. I’M SORRY.]** ~~

A small laugh makes its way through your sobs. You really need to sleep - you have a test in the morning and another the day after that. You find your way blindly to your bed, crawling under the covers. The day after tomorrow, you have more tests and then work. 

On top of all this, you just came harder than you ever have to a voice only you could hear. A voice you are probably scaring the shit out of, judging by the panicked frequency at which he is calling your name.

You crack your eyes open, looking at your hands in the dim light of your room. You take a few breaths before you speak.

“Gaster… that was… amazing. Don’t be sorry.” You pull one of your pillows to your chest, hugging it. A large part of you wishes for someone to hold you back. He cooes and hums to you, and it helps calm you down.

You’re so crazy. You can’t tell anyone about this… about Gaster, not unless you want a one way ticket to a room with padded walls. 

“Gaster?”

He hums his acknowledgment. 

“Is… are things going to be weird between us now? Was… Was that weird for you?”

~~**[NO. I XXXXXX XX. XXXXXX YOU.]** ~~

“But things will be different don't they?”

~~**[YES. XXX I XXXXX XX X GOOD THING. YOU XXX XXX XXXX I HAVE, XXX XXXXXXX XX ME YOU FEAR XXXXXX CLOSE XX XXXXXX. I AM SORRY, XXX XX XXX XXXXXXXXX XXXX OUR XXXXXXXXX XXXXX XXXXXXX XX GREW XXXXXXX XX XXXX XXXXXX.]** ~~

You let out a soft whine and press your face into the pillow, letting his melancholy voice pull you closer to sleep. “Goodnight, Gaster…” you finally sigh.

There is a soft hum of static that practically breaths your name.

~~**[GOODNIGHT, XX XXXX.]** ~~

 

**.x.** ~~**X[XXXXXXXX]X** ~~ **.x.**

 

Look at you. With your fancy double doctorate and your shiny new lab. You and Gaster have been together for, well… a long time. He probably knows everything about you, but you still seem to captivate him. 

You don’t have an lab assistant - you… don’t really work well with others. Besides, technically you’re Gaster’s lab assistant/body/hands. That never stops you from getting in your two sense but you're willing to bow to the man who probably has a dozen more degrees than you. 

You love him, after all. He is as much a part of you as your hair or your fingers. You don’t remember what it was like to not have that comforting, sometimes flustered, sometimes agitated, male voice in your head, guiding you through some of the hardest years of your life.

He was so very proud of you. 

You know so much about him now as well. It had taken years of begging, prying and pouting but he opened up to you.

The man who speaks to you is Dr. Wingding Gaster, ex-Royal Scientist, monster from the Underground. He made several huge discoveries, conducted many morally questionable experiments, and accidentally fathered two boys during one of them. He designed and built the Core, a machine that powered the monster world. He had been in the process of finding a way to break the barrier and free his people when he fell into the Core, scattering himself across time and space and erasing himself from existence, doomed to watch the world move on, not even missing him.

It is heart breaking.

When this happened or sometime after - he was not good with time frames - a piece of his soul became lodged in yours. At least that’s his running theory. You have no way of exposing your own soul to check.

You became his eyes, and he became your insanity. You aren't sure if mad scientist was a step up or down from your childish goals of being a supervillain. But it pays better.

You two fit well together.

It’s not by chance or luck that your pristine little lab rests in the shadows of Mount Ebbott. It took a great deal of research, arguing over maps that looked so different than he recalled, and trial and error.

But these energy readings… The disappearances. They could be the barrier, he is SURE it is the barrier. The two of you were studying it, this being his first experience with it from the outside. Each new day, step by step, you discarded the idea that Gaster is imaginary, some symptom of your insanity.

How could you make this stuff up? Just the knowledge he has access to alone is what started making you believe. But when the pair of you found dusty old books speaking of the war in a language long forgotten?

You grew determined. Perhaps the pair of you could break the barrier from this side?

It’s a month after you started. It’s evening, and you have fallen asleep hunched over your desk in twilight. Not even Gaster’s complaints or encouragements drove you to the cot in the corner. Your desk is comfortable.

It’s a normal enough day for you - going over energy readings, taking samples, and comparing them to the day before. Nothing out of the ordinary; you don’t expect anything exciting to happen that day, or even that week.

You don’t expect to wake up to a shattering sound. “Gas-?” You don’t even get his name out before your eyes start to burn, pain overtaking you.

You fall from your chair clutching your face; you can barely see, but you think you catch glimpses of orange and blue whenever you crack your eyes open. Where are those lights coming from?

He says your name. No static, no distortion, no echo. For a moment, you don’t recognize him  - those things have always been a part of him. You can’t answer - it hurts so badly you can’t even appreciate how beautiful his voice is when it sounds so close.

He says it again and again, more worried with each repeat. You let out a whine to show that you hear but you can’t do more than tighten your fetal position under your desk.

**[THE BARRIER IS BROKEN. I CAN FEEL MYSELF - I THINK I CAN... MY GOD... YOUR… YOU MUST BREATHE, YOU MUST CALM DOWN. IT WILL GO AWAY, BUT YOU MUST CALM DOWN. I AM SO SORRY, THIS IS UNEXPECTED.]**

His voice tries to soothe you, and it works on some level, but it still hurts. He seems to have an idea of what is going on and that helps, if only slightly.

**[I THINK… PERHAPS NOW THAT THE BARRIER IS GONE… I CAN TRY SOMETHING.]**

He is quite a long moment. You feel a pull in your chest, and the air feels static. After a few more moments, Gaster lets out an excited cry. 

It hurts, it still hurts, your eyes are burning and now there’s a dull throb in your chest, but Gaster is calling your name again, desperately trying to get your attention. “Hurts, Gaster,” you whine, trying to force yourself into a smaller ball.

**[YES. IT WILL FADE. IT IS MY FAULT, MY MAGIC IS CALLING OUT TO THE OTHER PIECES OF ME.]**

He coos apologetically as a large hand strokes down your back. You freeze, forcing yourself to uncurl and look behind you, terrified that someone may have found you like this. To outside eyes, you probably just look like a crying mumbling mess curled up in pain.

There is nobody. Your lab is empty. The people who came every other day to clean weren't due until tomorrow. You let your eyes fall shut again, trying to block out the pain.

You’re alone, but you still clearly feel that hand resting on your lower back. You startle at the feeling of fingertips brushing under your eyes and across your cheek. “G-gaster?”

**[YES.]**

There is an excited trill to his voice, and you feel the hand move down to brush your lips. “I can feel… hands?” You let your fingers move to touch the hand on your face. Focusing on these odd phantom touches helps you push away the pain.

Your fingers meet bone where you have only seen air. Gaster lets out startled gasp. You don’t blame him - you’re surprised, too. As you let your fingers move and count the bones, they form the shape of a fairly large hand. The man in your head seems to be struggling for words, though a few of his syllables belong to your name.

Are you? Are these?

“Gaster?” you ask, pain all but forgotten as you let your finger dip into a strange hole where his palm would be. You are sure these hands, the one that froze on your lips and the one squeezing your hip… they had to be -

He nearly moans your name.

**[MY STARS… I CAN TOUCH YOU…. YOU CAN FEEL ME.]**

It isn’t a question, but a simple statement that he says as his hands start to move again. Both to cup your face, large thumbs wiping away your tears and soothing the wisps of magic that still burned your eyes. 

“Gaster… you're touching me.” Your tears are no longer from the pain. You let your hands cup the ones against your cheeks and press them closer to you. You’re afraid to open your eyes again, afraid you’ll break whatever spell this is. Whatever new level of crazy you’ve fallen into.

**[STARS ABOVE, I AM… AND YOU ARE TOUCHING ME.]**

You feel something firm press against your forehead. It’s flat and hard. Given the nature of his hands, you suspect it’s a skull. His forehead?  If you concentrate, you think you can feel his breath ghosting over your lips. It causes your breath to catch and return the pressure. 

You let your fingers trail over the back of his hands, tracing around the edge of the holes. The breathy way he utters your name sends a shiver through you. You find his wrists, his carpals. 

The fire in your eyes calms as you focus on the shape and texture of his bones, fingers ghosting up his radius and ulna until your fingers met something. It’s like tar or jello - firm, but goopy. You let your fingers dip into it as your move further up his arm, looking for the bone structure underneath. 

You stop when your name cracks in Gaster’s voice.

“Oh god. Am I hurting you!?” You pull your hands back, letting them rest against his hands again.

**[NO. IT FELT...IT’S JUST... IT'S BEEN A LONG TIME… SINCE I HAVE FELT ANYTHING.]**

From the contact point on your forehead, you have a pretty good idea where his face is. Slowly, you move your hands to cup his face, fingers brushing cheekbones. Your right thumb meets a crack in the bone and you carefully traced it until you meet the edge of an eye socket.

“Is this ok?” you questioned, fingers following the crack down to meet the edge of his mouth. He is a skeleton, but he is very much not a human skeleton. Human skeletons aren't this large, don’t have goopy parts. Human skeletons’ mouths didn’t move like this when they spoke.

**[YES. MAY I?]**

One of his fingers traced your lips, and you have a good idea what he is asking from you. You give the barest of nods and you feel those odd boney lips press against yours. There is some give, but not much - you are very much still kissing bone as he nuzzles his face against yours. There is an odd tingle against your lips, like a much more pleasant version of the burn from your eyes, and it leaves you gasping and pressing against him.

One hand slips back, threading through your hair and tilting your head to deepen the odd kiss. 

Another hand slips around your back, the other still cupping the back of your neck as the pair of you simply breathe against each other. A third slips around your waist and a fourth finds a home behind your knees. 

It’s almost enough to make you open your eyes. But what if he can only do this while you aren't looking? What if this is just a dream, and as soon as you open your eyes, it will stop? “Gaster, how many hands do you have?”

This earns a chuckle. It’s beautiful without the overlay of static and distortion. You love it. You feel him brush his teeth against the side of your face before he speaks. To feel his lips move against you as his voice echoes inside of you is something else.

**[AS MANY AS I NEED, MY DEAR. I THINK WE SHOULD MOVE THIS TO SOMEWHERE A BIT MORE COMFORTABLE THAN THE FLOOR.]**

Before you can say anything or even try to get up, you feel the hands and arms tighten around you, pulling you against something large, firm and goopy. Letting out a gasp, you feel yourself lifted up and moved. You aren't sure where until you’re lowered unto the cot you keep in a corner of the lab. 

Nerds that you are and as driven as the pair of you can be, more often than not you sleep in this corner rather than return to your apartment at the end of the day.

He props you up and you feel the brush of bone and teeth against your face again. The cot sinks beside you and you can feel that Gaster was settling there. None of his hands have left you, simply touching. A brush of a thumb against the small of your back, a squeeze of your thigh, long fingers tracing up your arms. His hands are everywhere, and honestly, you’ve lost count of how many are on you.

A pair of thumbs brushes over your eyelids, and he whispers your name against your cheek.

**[PLEASE. OPEN YOUR EYES, LOVE.]**

You sigh, turning your face to hide it against one of his palms. 

“What if… What if I open my eyes and everything stops? What if this is the final straw and it turns out I really was crazy this whole time?” You don’t realize you started crying again until you feel firm fingers made of bone wipe away your tears and Gaster muttering your name once more against your skin.

**[I AM MORE REAL NOW THAN I HAVE BEEN SINCE MY FALL. PLEASE, I NEED TO SEE IF YOU ARE WELL. I… I WANT TO KNOW IF YOU CAN SEE ME.]**

His voice is soft, and his hands comfort you. They tingle and spark against you, causing little shivers to run through you. Gods, if this is all just some insanity, some hallucination, you never want it to end.

You open your eyes.  

First, all you can see is a blurry, hazy mix of blue and orange. Your eyes feel sore and sting in the low light of the room. It’s now very clearly dark out. How long has it been?

The color fades and the room comes into focus.

But it isn't just the room.

A large figure sits beside you, fading in and out, never fully there but not fully gone. You would have jumped and screamed, had the figure not been sitting where you had felt Gaster.

He would have been tall if he was standing, nearly seven and a half feet, you’re sure. His body seems to shift and move like it’s not quite solid. An impossible blackness takes up the majority of his mass. Is this the goopiness you touched before?

His arms are long, one of his true hands still cups your face and the other rests on your hip. The other hands, more transparent than the man himself, glow faintly, blue and orange. 

His hands - his real hands - as well as what appears to be a white turtleneck, and his face, seem more solid than the rest of him.

His face.

There is the crack from one eye to his mouth, the other eye is slightly droopy and has a crack trailing up and over the back of his skull. It is very clearly a skull, but it looks deformed, like it has melted and simplified. It seems to be able to move and change expression more than a regular skull could.

He looks worried, afraid and nervous. Blue and orange pinpricks glowing in his sockets are trained on your eyes.

Once your eyes meet his, he pulls back slightly and glances away, your name cracking in his hushed voice.

“Gaster… I can…” He closes his eyes and you lean forward, cupping his cheek and turning his face towards you. Your other hand is resting on his shoulder, playing with that oddly firm and goopy texture. It isn’t exactly slimy or sticky, and you decide you like it. 

**[I… ALMOST WISH YOU COULD NOT. I MUST BE FRIGHTENING TO YOU. I… SINCE MY FALL MY BODY HAS BEEN THIS WAY.]**

You brush your fingers over his teeth before leaning forward and replacing them with your lips. He stills before finally relaxing against you, brushing those boney lips against yours. It’s soft and slow. It’s filled with… so many emotions. 

You are kissing Gaster. The man who has been stuck in your head for years. Gaster is holding you. His arms tugging you close, supporting you and holding you against his goopy chest. Gaster is here, Gaster is real.

“It doesn't matter. You're here. It doesn't matter what you look like, Gaster. You’re HERE, you’re… gods, you’re touching me. I’m touching you,” you ramble against his lips, pulling a chuckle from him.

You leane back, pulling him with you. 

**[I’VE DREAMED OF TOUCHING YOU LIKE THIS. NOW THAT I AM, I DO NOT KNOW IF I EVER WANT TO STOP.]**

He presses his little nuzzly kisses against your neck and tugs your lab coat off of your shoulders. 

“Then don’t stop. Gaster, please… touch me,” you purred, running your fingers down his chest and watching as they leave tracks in his goopy body. It earns you a shuddering moan before he presses another kiss against your collarbone. 

His hands are everywhere as you tug him closer, wanting to feel him closer, never wanting to let him go. You feel something long, warm and wet touch your shoulder and drag up the side of your neck to toy with your ear.

A shaky moan is pulled from you and you open your eyes, pulling back enough to see what’s going on.

A long black tongue unfurls from Gaster’s jaw. Your mouth pops open and you're pretty sure your face just turned several shades darker. His eye ridges arch as he lets out a soft chuckle and leans in to claim your open mouth.

This is something else. You’ve kissed your share of people before and after Gaster became a part of your life. But after this, you don’t even want to label those experiences kissing. 

This? Now this is kissing.

His long tongue fills your mouth, thoroughly exploring and searching every inch of you for sensitive spots. It’s pulling sounds from you that you didn’t even know you could make. His tongue is smooth and doesn’t feel entirely solid. It’s slimy in a way, but not unpleasantly so. He tastes of everything and nothing, much like his accent, you cannot put a name to it but it leaves you wanting more. He touches every tooth, brushes against your palate and the soft flesh behind it, pressing into you until he just barely reaches your limit. By the time he finally pulls back, you are a thoroughly kissed panting mess. You can’t even mutter more than the first syllable of his name.

One of those long fingers traces your kiss swollen lips, and you can’t stop yourself from letting your tongue dart out and rub against it. Gods, at least the man looks nearly as undone as you feel.

His face is… is that how skeleton goop monsters flush? Darker shades of grey dot his face and cheeks as he catches his breath. The way his eyes roam your body, his hands flexing against you. It’s taking a lot for him to hold himself back.

Watching him, you suck on the finger, enjoying the way he seems to shiver. Your hands press into the goo near where his hips would be, making it about an inch in before you hit resistance.

After all these years, his voice still manages to excite you in so many ways. But now it isn’t just a voice. Now it’s attached to this figure, this man leaning over you, one of his ghostly hands pressing into the soft part of your stomach while another works on the buttons of your shirt.

**[YOU'RE SO MUCH SOFTER THAN I SUSPECTED. SO RESPONSIVE.]**

He hums, opening your shirt and pressing a skeletal kiss to your freshly exposed neck. You throw your head back, scraping your teeth over the finger you’re still holding in your mouth. This earns you a moan from the man and a careful press of teeth over your pulse. 

You don’t even try to hold back the needy sound that’s pulled from your throat. 

He chuckles and shifts over you, pressing nips and kisses down your neck and over your collarbones as his weight settles  comfortably over your legs. 

He isn’t exactly heavy - he isn’t fully solid, it feels more like he simply just settles on and around you. You’re distracted from analyzing this as a pair of his phantom hands catch yours, tugging them above your head and lacing your fingers with his.

You aren't entirely sure when he’s gotten your shirt off of you, but he is now making quick work of your bra. 

His eyes are on you with such a heated intensity, with such want and need that you doubt he needs to hold your hands above your head - his gaze is enough to pin you down.

“G-gaster. Please.” You arch your back, pressing your freshly exposed chest into his hands and letting out a soft moan.

He chuckles and presses that long black tongue against your neck once more, hands moving softly and slowly to explore your bust.

**[PLEASE WHAT MY DEAR? YOU’LL HAVE TO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT.]**

He practically purrs next to your ear before catching your earlobe between his teeth.

“Ah! Nhg. Your such a tease,” you whine, squirming under every little nip, lick twist and pinch. You’re a mess and you can barely do anything but grip his hands and arch against the goopy man above you.

**[YOU LIKE IT WHEN I TEASE YOU. BESIDES, IT’S ONLY FAIR, MY DEAR. YOU HAVE BEEN TEASING ME FOR…]**

He doesn’t finish that sentence, moving to claim your mouth once more. You suck and nibble his tongue, moving yours against it and pulling a few needy moans out of the man above you and relishing that nameless taste that belonged to him. 

Hands - his true hands - finally release your bust and move down your sides, pressing against your ribs until they meet the soft part of your stomach once more. When his fingers meet your belt, he finally pulls back, letting you catch your breath while his eyes roam over your disheveled body.

“Ga-Gaster.” He responds by humming your name as his fingers trace along the skin of your hips toying with the edge of your pants.

“Please!” you whine, trying to press your hips up against him only to be stopped by a firm press of his hands and an amused chuckle. He is going to make you say it. He has the look of someone who would tease, touch and toy with you endlessly. You know that Gaster is a very patient man when he wants to be.

“I want you! You silly man,” you growl, arching your back as much as you can and gripping the hands that trapped yours. “Touch me, fuck me… Let me touch you. Please, Gaster!”

In the space of a breath he is on you again, chest pressed flush against yours, and his tongue pushes into your mouth. You feel him lifting and shifting your legs and hips. You hear the soft thud of fabric hitting the floor as firm bone fingers trace up your legs and scratch your thighs. You moan around his tongue as he presses his hips into yours, and you felt that cool goopy firmness against your overheated core.

**[YOU'RE SO WARM. SO TANGIBLE… MY STARS…]**

Your moan echoes his shaky gasp as his fingers brush over your folds. You’re practically dripping with want and swollen with need.

**[YOU’RE SO WET.]**

His finger just barely grazes the hood of your clit and sends a shock of pleasure through you. His touches are slow; he’s exploring you, examining you. It’s driving you crazy. All you can do is squirm under him and pant, a pair of phantasmal hands still gripping yours. 

“P-Please Gaster. I need you. I-I’ve wanted to touch you… hold you, for so long.” Your voice is an odd mix of sobbing, begging and wanting. God, if anyone could hear you right now. Well, it’s a good thing that you have the only lab on the floor of this building.

Gaster has paused in his touching, letting his hands rest on your thighs. Your name ghosts past his teeth like a prayer as the ghostly hands that hold your fade away.

With your newfound freedom, you’re quick to lean forward and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing yourself as close to him as you can and pressing your face into the neck of his sweater. 

There is your name again, practically purred against your hair as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap.

**[MY DEAR, MY DARLING, MY LOVE.]**

He hums against you, one large hand stroking your hair.

**[I KNOW NOT HOW LONG I CAN HOLD THIS FORM. BUT I WILL EMBRACE YOU FOR AS LONG AS I CAN.]**

You freeze like that. You thought… hoped that this would be your new forever. But now the two of you have a time limit? New tears run down your face as you press against him, hands fisting against his semi solid shoulders. “T-Then you go back to being a voice? Or…” You couldn’t say it. Couldn’t think it. “H-how long?”

**[SEVERAL HOURS MORE, I SUSPECT. IT IS NOT SAFE TO KEEP YOUR SOUL FROM YOUR BODY FOR AN EXTENDED PERIOD OF TIME.]**

“What do you mean, my soul?”

**[IN A WAY… I AM BORROWING IT. THOUGH IT IS MORE LIKE SHARING. OUR THEORY OF WHY I WAS STUCK INSIDE YOU IS CORRECT. HERE, LOOK.]**

He pulls back and you whine, not wanting to let go. After a moment and a few loving nuzzles from Gaster, you relent.

You watch as he presses his hollow palm to his chest and makes a slow pulling motion. You don’t know what to expect, but a cartoony blue heart is not what you expected. It hovers an inch from his chest, and as you stare at it you notice it is not fully blue.

On the left side of the heart, near the rounded swell, is a shard of white no bigger than your thumb. That section of the heart is slightly bigger, forming around the added shard and giving your soul a slightly lopsided look to it.

Your finger hovers over the little sliver of white before you glance up, meeting Gaster’s two toned eyes. “You?”

He gives a small nod before responding.

**[ME, WITH THE BARRIER FALLEN A PORTION OF MY MAGIC RETURNED TO ME. RETURNED TO US.]**

Gaster pauses, tilting your head ever so slightly to look into your eyes.

**[THE FIRE, THE ECHOES OF MY MAGIC, BURNED YOU. BUT OTHER THAN SOME… COSMETIC DIFFERENCES… YOU APPEAR UNHARMED.]**

Cosmetic differences? Gaster seems more flustered as he keeps glancing at your eyes. You’re tempted to get up and check, but that would mean pulling away from this glorious man. Your hands move to wrap around his shoulder and neck, tracing the exposed vertebrae there and causing his voice to waver as he continues to explain.

**[MY MAGIC, COMBINED WITH BORROWED DETERMINATION, IS ENOUGH TO ALLOW ME TO MANIFEST FOR A TIME. I ONLY HAVE THEORIES AT THIS TIME, BUT WE CAN EXPLORE THAT LATER.]**

As he speaks, his voice becomes deeper, a touch more gravelly, as your soul sinks back into his chest. He leans in, pressing his teeth against your lips once more as he shifts your hips in his lap. 

Your eyes pop open as you feel a slight press against your core. 

Gaster may be some kind of a skeleton goop hybrid monster, but you have a pretty good idea what that is.

**[NOW, I BELIEVE WE HAVE A MUCH MORE URGENT MATTER TO ATTEND TO, MY DEAR.]**

You hum your agreement, pressing kisses against his teeth before letting your tongue trace the crack to the rim of his eye socket while you rub hips against his.

“Fuck me, Gaster,” you whisper against his cheek. He chuckled in response, laying you back down and leaning over you. He pulls far enough away so that his eyes can trace every little line and curve of your face. Fingers are tracing the line of your jaw and wrapping around the back of your neck as he leans back down, just barely out of reach of your lips.

**[ANYTHING FOR YOU, MY LOVE.]**

As he presses his teeth against your lips, a hand ghosts over your chest, across your ribs and along your hips before pressing firmly against your heat.

It pulls a broken gasp from you, and Gaster takes the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. As his tongue moves softly against yours, one of those long skeletal fingers slips inside of you.

**[YOU'RE SO TIGHT.]**

It reaches so much farther than you could on your own. Your walls flutter around the invading digit while he carefully touches and works at different sections of your inner walls. He is breathing harder now, having broken the kiss. You crack an eye open to look at him.

Gaster’s eyes are on your hips with an intensity that would almost be scary if you didn’t recognize it in yourself. He is cataloging every little sensitive spot, every little reaction he pulls out of you; he is making mental notes of of how to drive you mad. 

You open your mouth to call to him, but that’s when he finds a spongy bundle of nerves inside you and presses his fingers firmly against it. 

You see white, and you're pretty sure you’ve lost control over a good portion of your body as you fee your legs tightening around Gaster and your arms pulling him down against you. That finger, no, two fingers are now working against that bundle of nerves as your ride through your orgasm. 

Your body loosens, and Gaster stops his movements before the overstimulation gets painful. You blink a few times, and Gaster is looking at you like he just heard and saw the most amazing thing in his life.

God, you must have screamed his name.

You slam your face against his, your tongue pressing past his teeth and into the black void beyond them.

It feels so good, so amazing to be kissing this man, to be touched by this man. This very real man. Your hands slip down his shoulders and across his chest, drawing designs in his goopy body. Slowly, you make your way to the bulge you felt before.

You wrap your fingers around the base of it and his voice catches and stammers your name as he presses his face against your shoulder.

It’s thick, easily thicker than anything you had ever taken. It has almost the same goopy firmness as the rest of him, though it has more resistance and your fingers can’t push into it. 

You slide your fingers up the length and pull another staggered moan from the man above you. It tapers, thankfully; his girth has frightened you slightly. It’s long and flexible, and you can’t help the small giggle that escapes past your lips. 

“I think I understand why you were so opinionated about a particular genre of hentai.” You turn your head enough to press a kiss against the side of Gaster’s skull while your hands pump the man's tentacle. 

His huff is cut off by a deep groan as your fingers pass over the tip of it. 

**[IT WAS MORE A COMMENT ON THE LACK OF PLOT… AND SOCIAL IMPLICATION-]**

You give him a squeeze to cut him off, enjoying the way he grinds his hips into your touch.

**[THOUGH IT WAS GOOD TO KNOW THAT HUMANS WEREN'T OPPOSED TO ANATOMICAL DIFFERENCES. I HAD WORRIED MY APPEARANCE...]**

He chuckles, slipping from your hold and pressing against your core.

“Gaster.” You do your best to sound serious while holding back a shaky moan. “I love you. So much. Appearance doesn't matter to me when I think about how special you are to me. My hearts been yours for years I would never be opposed to you, regardless of how you looked or any anatomical differences.”

You pull his face to yours, kissing him softly and slowly as your hands explore his face and dance down his vertebra. He moans into the kiss; you can’t make out the words, but they vibrate in your mind and against your tongue.

Slowly, he shifts his hips and the tip of his tentacle shaped cock presses against your entrance.

**[I LOVE YOU TOO, MY DEAR. MORE THAN I WOULD EVER BE ABLE TO SHOW YOU.]**

He purrs against your mouth before slowly pressing into you.

He fills you perfectly, letting you stretch and adjust as you squirm against him, a panting mess until Gaster starts kissing you, his hands stroking your sides and massaging your breasts. You feel another pair on the back of your thighs sliding up to grip your rear.

Your arms are around his neck, holding his close. Once his hips join yours, your legs hook around his waist, pulling him closer. Once he is fully seated inside of you, there’s not much more either of you can do but breathe and clutch at each other while you adjust.

You are so pleasantly full of that goopy firmness. It’s reaching and touching you places you could have never reached on your own. You feel tight and stretched but not unpleasantly so; you shift your hips and squeeze against the tentacle inside of you. You are more than ready for him to move, and judging by the way Gaster shakes and holds you it’s taking everything for him to hold back.

“Gaster. Please. Move,” you pant out.

He groans your name and pulls back until nearly all of him leaves you. He presses back in one smooth stroke, but that’s not all. No, as he reenters you, the tentacle shifts, pressing against your walls and stroking them firmly.

It leaves you seeing stars and gasping his name.

Or at least attempting to. You repeat the first syllable several times before giving up and slamming your mouth against his teeth. 

As he repeats the motion of his hips, he is more than happy to press his tongue into your mouth once more. One hand moves to the back of his head to hold it in place and the other wraps around his back; during the next stroke you shift your hips and grind up to meet him.

He groans into your mouth and rewards you with a more powerful thrust and picking up speed.

It nearly leaves your mind blank.

He shifts from your mouth to your neck, kissing and licking along your jugular and pressing against your pulse. Gaster never keeps the same rhythm for long. Long powerful strokes pressing against you, short quick ones slamming into your more sensitive spots. Sometimes he holds his hips flush against yours and just simply moves inside of you.

At this rate, you are not going to last long. You’re a shaking, drooling mess, and the man with his teeth pressed against the side of your neck is in no better state.

**[YOU’RE CLOSE.]**

It is a statement, not a question. He can feel your orgasm rising, feel the way you squirm and clench against him.

“A-Are you?”

Your only response is a hum and a long swipe of his tongue from your pulse to a sensitive spot behind your ear where your jaw meets your skull.

His pace changes again; he shift your hips and he is thrusting into you hard, that long thick tentacle squirming inside of you. You’re pretty damn sure he is close.

**[COME FOR ME. LET GO FOR ME.]**

He nearly growls your name as he bites into your neck, teeth pressing into that sensitive spot behind your ear and sending a sharp spike of pleasure pain through you as you clench around him. You aren't sure, one? Two more thrusts? It isn’t long until you are shattering underneath him.

You would have screamed but your throat isn’t working; everything is white and your body feels like static and everything feels so SO good. After a few moments, your lungs remind you that breathing is a good idea, and you vaguely registered that Gaster moves a few more times inside of you before he nearly wraps himself around you and fills you with something sticky and warm.

Slowly, you figure out how your arms and legs work again and return the man's hold.

He shifts, laying beside you, tucking you under his chin and stroking your hair. For a long time, the pair of you stay like that, giving each other small soft touches and kisses. You’re almost asleep when Gaster murmurs your name and tilts your face to look at him.

**[HOW DO YOU FEEL?]**

“Good, happy…” You pause, taking full assessment of yourself. “Sticky,” you grin, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

**[NO PAIN?]**

He presses a skeletal kiss to your cheek before pulling back and examining your face. 

You close your eyes and focus which is hard to do when at least three different hands are rubbing lazy and soothing circles against your skin.

There is a dull throb where he’s bitten you, but that isn’t truly painful. Below, you are pleasantly sore, and little aftershocks of pleasure still trickle through you. You banged your knees when you fell to the floor what felt like hours ago.

Your eyes still sting, but they no longer burn with… Gaster said it was magic… 

Your chest.

As soon as you think about it you feel it, a dull empty void that feels raw and painful. Like it’s calling out for something missing. You press your hand against your sternum and take a breath, trying to suppress the pain.

Gaster lets out a sad hum and places his hand over yours.

“It's like… something's missing…” You open your eyes to meet his sad pair.

**[SOMETHING IS, MY LOVE. WE ARE NEARING THE UPPER LIMIT OF HOW LONG WE CAN SAFELY KEEP YOUR SOUL FROM YOUR BODY.]**

Gaster strokes your cheek and presses a kiss to your temple before pulling your shared soul from his chest.

Before he can guide it into you, you raise a hand to block the motion. “W-wait.”

He whispers your name with only a hint of scolding.

**[WE MUST PUT IT BACK. IF WE DO NOT, IT WILL HURT YOU… YOU COULD DIE.]**

He sounds so worried, but you aren't ready yet. You don’t want to let go of him yet.

“Will we be able to do this again? Will you be able to come back.” You can’t hide the slight panic in your voice, and you’re sure if your body had any more tears you would have started crying again.

**[IN THEORY.]**

He responds, pulling you close and sandwiching your soul between his chest and yours. Having it so close dulls the pain, but only slightly. 

**[THIS IS ALSO THE FIRST TIME YOUR SOUL HAS BEEN MANIFESTED. GIVEN TIME, WE COULD LIKELY MAINTAIN THE SEPARATION FOR LONGER.]**

You let out a shaky breath you didn’t realize you were holding and burrowed against him, peppering kisses against his shoulder and neck.

“Just… Just a little longer. Hold me until I fall asleep Gaster? Please?” you mutter, so quietly that you're afraid he won't hear you, but he responds by squeezing you tightly and stroking a hand down your back. 

**[VERY WELL, MY DEAR. I WILL CONFESS, GIVEN THE CHOICE, I DO NOT THINK I WOULD EVER LET YOU GO.]**

You tilt your head up, pressing your mouth to his once more, and share a soft and slow kiss. You break it only when he shifts you to lay more comfortably. You want to be stubborn and refuse to sleep, so that he can’t leave.

But from the barrier breaking, the magic burning through you, and the moments you shared with the large goopy man curled around you, sleep can’t be warded off for long.

Your eyes drift shut, and the last thing you remember before falling asleep is the gentle press of teeth to your forehead and the humming of a familiar forgotten lullaby. 

**.x.** **X[XXXXXXXX]X** **.x.**

You wake the next morning tired and sore. You’re curled up in your little cot with a blanket tucked firmly around you. You almost feel hungover with how fuzzy your head is and the way your body feels.

But it’s a good feeling.

Your fingers find your neck and meet a bitemark. It stings, but it brings a smile to your face.

“Gaster?” 

You sit up, glancing around the empty lab. Judging from the light, it’s not really morning. More like noon… late noon-ish.

**[I WAS STARTING TO WORRY. YOU SLEPT A LONG TIME.]**

He is still here. Still inside of you. Now, when he speaks, you feel a slight pulse from your soul. It’s almost as good as having him beside you. Well… No, nothing would ever be nearly as good as having that tall goopy skeleton beside you.

“I’m sorry to worry you. Yesterday was… Intense.” You can’t help the flush that comes to your cheeks and the slight giggle that passes your lips. “How are you feeling? I should have asked last night. This must be a lot to take in.”

**[I AM WELL. TIRED, BUT IT WILL PASS. I HAVE BEEN CONSIDERING SEVERAL NEW PROJECTS FOR US TO PURSUE, SEEING AS THE BARRIER HAS BEEN DEALT WITH. THOUGH FOREMOST WE SHOULD INVESTIGATE THAT.]**

You hum your agreement as you listen to him, ramble off several hypotheses on how the Barrier could have been pulled down from the inside. You stand and stretch, purposely popping your back to startle him out of explaining how even with the seven human souls it shouldn’t have shattered in the way that it did.

**[YOU DO THAT ON PURPOSE.]**

You laugh, scanning the room for your clothing only to find them neatly folded by the cot with your phone on top.

“It feels good. Besides, you're cute when you get flustered.”

He huffs, but you feel a surge of fondness through your soul. That was new… and probably something you and Gaster would need to figure out sooner rather than later. 

For now, you take your clothing and phone into the little bathroom attached to the lab. Standing in front of the mirror, you give yourself a once over before your eyes catch something different.

“So when you said minor cosmetic differences…” Your eyes locked onto… well, your eyes. One is an icy blue and the other is a bright orange. Like the fire that had burned from them the night before.

**[IT… IT SHOULD BE FAIRLY EASY TO HIDE. I HAD NO IDEA… I’M SO SORRY.]**

He stammers. You blink a few times, looking this way and that, before you grin into the mirror. “I kind of like it.”

He lets out a worried hum when you tilt your head to get a good look at the bite mark on your neck. It’s an impressive bruise, but it hasn’t broken the skin. You hear his breath catch, but before he can apologize again you open your mouth.

“And I really like this.”

Your fingers trail along the mark, a soft smile on your face. It isn’t like you could have bitten yourself there. Not that you could easily change your eye color, either, but you are taking every little proof that last night really happened that you could get.

Gaster seems to catch on, he always does He knows you so well.

You feel a tug in your chest and the man materializes behind you, arms wrapping around you and pulling your back against his chest. 

He seems just a bit more solid this time, and he isn’t even trying to hide the smugness in his smile when he looks at the mark on your neck. You were right, he is quite a bit taller than you, but he easily bends down to press a toothy kiss against your neck.

**[COME, MY DEAR. WITH THESE NEW DEVELOPMENTS AND THE UNDERGROUND OPEN, WE HAVE A LOT OF WORK TO DO.]**

**Author's Note:**

> For now I'm going to call this one monster of a one-shot, I may write more with these two~ I do love them.


End file.
